


Red Threads and Hitsuzen

by chibinocho



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Ancestors, Family, Loneliness, M/M, Reincarnation, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22451917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibinocho/pseuds/chibinocho
Summary: Watanuki reflects on his many connections with Doumeki. Or should that be Doumekis?
Relationships: Doumeki Haruka/Watanuki Kimihiro, Doumeki Shizuka/Watanuki Kimihiro
Comments: 19
Kudos: 97





	Red Threads and Hitsuzen

**Author's Note:**

> So have been re-reading xxxholic recently and moving onto Rei and this idea wouldn't quite shake. 
> 
> Although there's no tag for Doumeki Sayaka/Watanuki Kimihiro yet ...

Watanuki woke first and rose up from the futon silently to avoid waking the man who slept peacefully beside him. He padded across the tatami to slide a discarded silk robe over his shoulders, providing some guard against the chill of the morning that was already lapping around his naked body. Retrieving his pipe, he settled himself against the doorway, remaining close to the gently glowing hibachi to look out into the open garden that was still hazy in the pale mists of dawn.

It had happened again.

Watanuki would like to tell himself that it was simply the ongoing connection between him and Doumeki. Their red thread stretching between them. When he had been a younger man, he had raged at this inexplicable connection between himself and Doumeki, horrified at their constantly being thrown together. He had fought hard against the forces and those threads that had bound them tightly together. He had longed for normality: no spirits, a simple life and a happy marriage, preferably to Himawari. But life was never simple and he was thwarted in these dreams but - he soon realised - not unpleasantly so.

Being confined to the shop at first was fine. He longed to see Yuuko hard enough to want to stay and plenty to preoccupy him with learning the quirks and rules of wish fulfilment and feeling his own powers grow exponentially. Even then, these tasks could not overcome that nagging sensation of loneliness. As a lonely and isolated child with no parents, constantly harassed by spirits, he had longed for some connection and now - finally - he had a family of sorts he was unwilling to lose it. He wanted those connections; he craved love and even touch.

Never a boy - or man - to be physically intimate with others, Watanuki had initially ignored these cravings for closeness. They were simply the desires of a teenager and a natural part of life. But as time marched on in the world beyond the shop wards, Himawari married and Doumeki had his university commitments, Watanuki found himself increasingly overtaken by the need to be with another.

It had been a late evening. After a day with a difficult client who had been passionately in love with two men. She had then become desirable to them with both seeking her, however when the time came to offer the price of her choice, she had refused to surrender it. She wished to remain desirable to all men and did not want to choose just one. Fate had then intervened… and the inevitable had happened with the murders. Watanuki had tried all he could to stop it, he had cajoled and warned but it was inevitable. It was hitsuzen. Watanuki had been left exhausted and emotional and for once had never been so grateful to see Doumeki appear at the gates of the shop bearing two large paper bags of supplies. And a large bottle of good sake. They had sat together on the veranda, idly drinking and swapping stories, wisdom, news and barbed comments as they usually did, when Watanuki had stopped and stared out into the night.

"I do miss touch sometimes." He confessed suddenly, his eyes suddenly stinging with unshed tears.

Doumeki had been almost surprised by the confession and Watanuki laughed to see it.

"I have company here but yet am alone." He said again by way of explanation. "Every so often I realise what I have given up. I don't regret my decision but I cannot help wondering what could have been."

And that was how the mutual kiss had started. Domeki's fingers tilted up his chin and he had moved into the caress. Bodies had pressed against each other in mutual longing and there was a passion that each man knew had been there and had been growing for some time. They had explored each other in the lamplight, shedding their clothes like leaves, baring long concealed skin. Their hands had followed, both giving and receiving physical pleasure with a sense of urgency. Watanuki had spread himself under Doumeki and let the taller man take him fully. He had gripped the stronger man’s shoulders as he found his release, hearing Doumeki whisper a pleasure-strained 'Kimihiro' against his ear as he did the same.

Watanuki wanted to say that it was a one-time thing. A single night of passion in the heat of the moment led by grief for Yuuko and a wish that had failed. But that would be a lie. Although it had taken a long time to actually succumb to it, both he and Doumeki had an attachment, an attraction and even an addiction to each other and after that first night both had often sought their physical pleasures with each other.

Even after Doumeki's marriage to Kohane. 

Watanuki wished he could feel more remorse over that. 

Watanuki often wondered what Doumeki would think of him now though. Would he disapprove? After all there was no nice and polite way of saying 'after I lost you, I took your descendents for lovers'. But yet that was the truth. This very evening, Doumeki Sayaka - like his father before him and even his Great-grandfather Haruka within the dream realm - had followed the path of his ancestors and not only continued with the care of the shop and Watanuki but had now bedded with him too. And, like his forebears, he had proven a gentle and passionate lover intensely attuned to Watanuki's physical needs just as Watanuki was aware of theirs.

Watanuki had quite forgotten his hundred years of confinement under Sayaka's gentle flirtations over the last few weeks. The bags of groceries he bought began to contain more delicacies: a castella cake, strawberries and rarer - and stronger - forms of sake. Books had appeared in a variety of subjects which Sayaka had thought he would like. Sayaka had then progressed into staying longer in the evenings, sitting nearer to Watanuki and finding reasons to touch him; passing him things so their fingers could touch. Finally Watanuki had trailed his fingers down Sayaka's cheek in a deliberate copy of Shizuka's own actions a couple of lifetime's ago and allowed the younger man to lean in for a kiss.

Unlike the fiery passions of Shizuka, Sayaka proved cooler, calmer and more controlled in his desire. He had lain Watanuki down on the futon and unwrapped him like a precious gift, moving aside layers of silk with an exaggerated care than made Watanuki’s nerves sing. He had tracked kisses over each inch of bared flesh and Watanuki had found himself writhing and desperate for more, thrusting upwards to gain more touch, more pleasure, just more of everything. When Sayaka had finally made love to him, he had cried out with relief, embracing the younger man to him. And with that burst of release, Sayaka had smiled down at him and Watanuki had seen them all in his eyes, staring down at him.

Watanuki closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and let pipe smoke roll over his tongue before exhaling in a single stream. Maybe one day this dream would end. Maybe one day there would be no Doumeki to love him in this way. Something would happen to break the red threads woven through them. His little finger twitched in time with his heart, as if feeling those threads pull at him. What if something severed those threads? Those connections that he treasured so much. Even Haruka, within his dream realm, had been his lover in the early days of Shizuka’s death providing the comfort and physical closeness Watanuki had wept for - what if even he was taken away from Watanuki too?

His loss of Yuuko had led him to mew himself up within the shop, what more would he do to keep his lover … lovers … close to him?

Watanuki felt an unexpected wash of fear and panic grip his heart at the thought. 

"Hitsuzen." Came Yuuko's voice from all those years ago. 

"Everything is hitsuzen." Echoed Watanuki.

Sayaka stirred on the futon and opened his eyes, raising himself onto an elbow with his gaze resting on Watanuki still sat against the doorframe. In the half light of dawn his features blurred into memories.

"Kimihiro." Came the murmur. It sounded like the voice of every Doumeki was calling to him - past and future - and it was a warm wave of reassurance.

“Doumeki.” He responded, addressing them all. “I am here.”


End file.
